


A Flame And His Wick

by rarepairshit



Series: Hinata centric pairings <3 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, College, Hinata Shouyou Overworking Himself, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Iwaizumi Hajime Not Doing Enough, M/M, OP Hinata For The Plot Line, Oikawa Tooru Not Knowing How To Help, Olympics, Oneshot, Smart Hinata Shoyou, Volleyball, college fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarepairshit/pseuds/rarepairshit
Summary: In which Oikawa Tooru and Hinata Shouyou compliment each other in all the worst ways and neither know what to do about it.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Hinata centric pairings <3 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2099697
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	A Flame And His Wick

**Author's Note:**

> So I don’t really remember writing this one but I don’t think it’s too bad >.> I hope it makes sense because the concept made me cry even if I didn’t do all too well on the fic, haha. English isn’t my first language so please don’t mind any grammar errors :)

It all begun after their first practice match, in which Hinata and Oikawa locked eyes as he flew. The setter knew that he had to set for him, he had to. He followed Karasuno out, listening to the advice that their coach gave them before cornering the ginger.

What followed was just a haze, in which Oikawa barely remembered asking to meet him in their gym after practice ended so that he could set for him. He had never in his life wanted something so bad, and it made him feel a way he had to get rid of. He let Hinata go after he nodded, a new sort of determination lit in his eyes. 

Sometimes Oikawa wondered what would’ve happened if he had just left the spiker alone. 

-

An involuntary shout left Oikawa’s mouth as he watched Hinata fall on his ankle for the first time, running over as quick as he knee let him. He picked the ginger up, concern clouding his thoughts. He remembered the look of pain on his face all to well, and it sometimes kept him up at night. But the two continued, the shorter insisting that no he was fine and he didn’t need to see the nurse, not to mention how many questions that’d bring up.

The next thing that stuck out in Oikawa’s mind was the first time he felt Hinata pass behind him as he set in the wrong direction, trying to see how close he could get to the ball when he was already preparing to jump. He remembered staring at the boy as he hit the toss perfectly, his spike echoing around the gym. It seemed more powerful than his ordinary ones, and the joy that was clear on the others face was enough to keep him going for another three hours. By the time the two were done practicing, the clock struck eleven.

The next week the two schools had a practice match, and Oikawa had to scold himself in the middle of a match as his instinct told him to set to Hinata on the other side of the net. He moved his hands back as quick as possible, but the toss was too quick and too powerful for Iwaizumi to hit, and they lost the set. He saw something flash through Kageyama’s eyes, and could only pray that he didn’t see what the captain of an opposing team had almost done.

Not thirty minutes after the match ended, Oikawa dragged Hinata away from his team, not letting anyone on Karasuno see him. He barely had time to breathe before the two were pressed up against a wall, hands on one another and engaged in something that neither of the two knew how to stop. He was, at the time, faintly aware of Kageyama come around the corner only to run away, but as a hunger unknown to him devoured all of his other thoughts he ignored it.

Oikawa definitely remembered the first time Iwaizumi got properly mad over his ridiculous tosses. He had done something that he has only practiced with Hinata, and accidentally set the ball in the opposite direction of the spiker so the blockers would be left behind. He remembered shouting at his ace, making some throwaway comment after he said that it would be impossible for anyone to spike the ball if it went completely the opposite direction than they were already jumping, about how Hinata could have easily made it, and the look of realisation that set into the other’s face.

And then came the news that Hinata would be skipping a year, at least, when he went into college. He remembered the two of them celebrating, the idea of them being able to play together a year earlier than expected absolutely welcome news. The ginger tired to brush it off as nothing at first, but after relentless complimenting, the night ended as one full of passion.

At the next practice match that the two played, Oikawa remembered something about proposing another game just for the sake of it, in which the teams would be jumbled up and they would play with the other team. He called it something like an adaptability exercise, but dragged Hinata over to his team immediately. The two played like fire burning too bright in a candle, with the setter being a wick that moved with his flame, ready to satisfy any desire the flame had, whilst the spiker danced around the court like it was no more than a tango, flickering from one side to another in an instant, the way a flame moves in the wind. The two almost played a solo game, and beat the other team into the ground. They finally looked completely happy with a game.

He remembered being mildly offended when Hinata didn’t look more upset about him leaving for college, only to drop everything he was holding when he saw the boy two years above where he should be and in the same college as Oikawa. It wasn’t long before the two absolutely dominated every game they played, becoming known as a duo you absolutely did not want to play against. They remained undefeated, and spent every waking hour together. 

Then, of course, there was the time Oikawa’s knee buckled underneath him in a match and Hinata pulled himself to the ground so quickly and so heavy that he heard a crack come from his ankle. He remembered moving in a way that shouldn’t be possible on his knee the second he heard a muffled cry escape from the boy who was covering his mouth with a shaky hand, all colour drained from his face. In that moment, it was only the two of them, the setter picking up his spiker and rushing him to a coach before collapsing again as the adrenaline wore off.

The two didn’t stop practicing, even as they had been forbidden by a number of people. Hinata’s playstyle kept improving, become more and more destructive and dependant on his wick. The setter learnt how to set to his flame without looking, trusting that he would be there to spike his toss down wherever he let it fly. The ginger soon became the only person who could receive the other’s serves, predicting not only where it would land but how it would get there. Oikawa didn’t remember much from that time, except the look on his spiker’s face as his eyes rolled back into his head and his leg completely failed him, his wick all burnt out.

He was on crutches for half a year after that, and could no longer stand even to set to his Hinata, only watching as he grew unsatisfied and his play style dangeorous. He could only watch as his flame grew too hot, shattering the glass of his candle that kept him within reason and stopped himself from being devoured entirely by volleyball. Oikawa couldn’t tell the other how much it hurt to see him like this, but he did remember the two having an argument one night, and it ending with his spiker in tears and the setter slamming their dorm door and spending the night at Atsumu’s.

Oikawa knew exactly what pushed Hinata over the edge, the memory permanently imprinted in his head, often haunting his nightmares. He had left their dorm, knowing that the younger had been practicing all night, probably not taking a break to eat or drink. He remembered breaking down on campus, Iwaizumi behind him, shouting at the boy about how he was killing himself with all the practicing. He remembered him shouting back, saying something about how he knew his own limits, and it put the setter in so much pain he slapped his spiker. 

The very next day, Oikawa returned from Iwaizumi’s only to see everything that belonged to his little spiker stripped from the dorm, every trace of him even once stepping foot in the building gone. He remembered allowing himself to fall the floor and sob as his crutches only clattered behind him, damning the things for stopping him from being there for Hinata, stopping him from doing anything to help as he watched the boy work himself to his death.

The next time he heard about Hinata was on the news for joining the Olympic team at the age of 20, being one of the youngest to every play on the team. He felt overwhelming pride spread in his chest, before he remembered it being clouded by guilt and longing. Oikawa knew that something bad was going to happen, and so even though all his senses were screaming at him to talk to his old spiker and make sure he was okay, he instead blocked him on almost everything.

When Oikawa got the call from Iwaizumi, in which he told the former setter to turn his tv on and watch his former spiker compete in the Olympics, he complied, desperately wanting to see the ginger again, even if he had blocked him on everything and convinced himself that he shouldn’t talk to him and he didn’t need. He remembered the way he cheered in his own apartment, the pride that set itself as a smile on his face, the happiness he felt at seeing the ginger again, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

He remembered the pure fear that shot through his body as Hinata went limp in the air, mid spike, before crumpling to the ground in a heap. He remembered the dread that engulfed his whole being as paramedics rushed onto the court, laying him on a stretcher and rushing him to a hospital.

Deep down, Oikawa knew that he would never recover from that, just as he would never recover from his knee. The two were wick and flame, and just as Hinata had burnt his wick out, a flame couldn’t survive too long without something to support it. He was always going to come to an end with a flash, the flame going out in an instant. The two were each other’s everything, and just as they had started together, they were going to end up the same as well. Somewhere, in the very depths of his mind, the setter always knew that this was going to happen.

After all, what was a flame without a wick?

**Author's Note:**

> I tried a different writing style this time! I hope you like it because it’s a bit out of my lane o.o


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